That's Mine
by PockyWarriors
Summary: The immoral Underground society collides with the La Push pack when Paul imprints on an assassin,already claimed by the vampire who runs the Underworld.Paul tries to seperate the wolf want from his own,Jasmine...dosen't want him, but both need the other.


**Hello~ This is my second fic for Twilight though its not my first for underground drama, I have a fic on underground fighting, if you like Anime, specifically Hetalia you can check out my Underground Fighter fic starring Elizaveta! Heehee, so I decided to do one with Paul because he doesn't have an imprint in the books yet (?) and I think that there needs to be a girl who can be just as infuriating to Paul as he is to everyone else lol ;) and he needs someone who can kick his butt besides his pack mates cuz with his imprint he can make up with later hint hint ;) okie dokie! But it won't be an underground fighter, something different =D**

Paul Lahote was exhausted. Melanie Cape had just visited on one of her many midnight dates and they had wasted no time. He had just kicked her out and was busy reminiscing, laying into his pillow and sheets, content in his lack of imprint. He didn't want to be tied down, he hoped he never imprinted. To hell with Imprinting! He snuggled further, completely in the nude, into his sweat soaked sheets completely, blissfully unaware of a pair of eyes watching him, disgusted. He was in a lovely ignorance of the thoughts running through the figures head. After being the hunter so long, Paul never thought of being the prey. But this did not bother the figure. In fact it excited her.

~0~0~

There are a lot of school dropouts. There are the druggies, the kids who are tired of school, the haters, the dead, the dumb ones who do nothing but live in their parents homes, there are the ones who get pregnant and never come back, and then there are the ones who have to drop out. Have to? Why would anyone need to drop out of high school? Most do it for a cause that is entirely unlucky and unfair, like taking care of a sick uncle or getting deported. But then there are people like Jasmine. Scratch that, there are only about twenty people in the world who drop out of high school for a reason like Jasmine's.

It was seventh grade year, everything was starting to look up, she had gotten better foster parents, she had friends and then there was a freshman she liked who had been giving her the 'I want you' eye. But that all changed the day she came home to her foster parents bodies suspended from the chandelier. Blood spatters across the wall. Their necks blackened from the harsh rope wrapped around like a string of deadly pearls. Jasmine looked at them once, her eyes practiced well in the art of finding puncture marks or claw wounds. Finding them in the usual area, the throat stomach and inner thighs she took them down hid the inhuman caused wounds and called the police. Not once did she scream, or cry or gag on the scent of innocently spilt blood. It had happened before, it was a common occurrence. The only people she would have cried for where already dead and the tears for them had already been spent. She had tried to avoid the signs, running from one foster family to another, but gradually her conscience got to her, they were calling and she had to come. That anonymous house call, where the visitors left before she could see them, sealed her future.

She left her home that night with her foster parent's life savings in her backpack, skinny jeans and a sweater on her body and flew from San Diego California to Beirut Lebanon, the gateway to the Middle East.

That night cut off her life. She was no longer Jasmine. She was number ninety to her trainers and 'wolf girl' to her peers. Here in an underground community under a modern city she was trained to fight. Trained to kill efficiently. The 'bosses' of the place educated her and her peers about what they were. They were humans-Jasmine and the rest, but descendants of a race far more superior, Vampires and Werewolves, Nephilim, Faeries. But because Jasmine and her peers had the blood of certain members of each species, they had obtained some qualities. Mostly after the council had 'experimented' and perfected the human bits of the…humans, did they receive the speed, quick healing advancement of the five senses but that was all they inherited from their inhuman ancestors. It was all they needed to kill the fairytale creatures. Vampires and Werewolves dominated the programs. They had places all over the world; they trained all their walking packs of blood to become living breathing machines to kill their own kind. The council who ruled the most rouge, toughest, cruelest, best underground training school was headed by a nasty vampire called Lionel under Beirut Lebanon. Keep in mind; though they may be a far more superior predator than humans, they are subject to the same temptations, favoritism, fatherly compassion, and greed…even lust.

Lionel took a special liking to Jasmine when she first came. He trained her personally and soon she became the best fighter and assassin there was. She blended in with the vampire aristocrats at parties, she could look like a native in any crowd, despite skin color and obvious exotic looks. She was Lionel's favorite, he raised her as his daughter and although he knew her abject disgust for his kind and the others she tolerated him on the simple instincts of the politician that he had groomed her to be as well as murderer of his own kind. He and the council used their humans as their dirty doers. Some were underground fighters simply for the inhuman's entertainment, some were eaten; some were links to the mortal world, serving as liaisons. Most fell into that category. Only the best were taken from the main stream murder classes and trained to be pure well bred assassins. They were then set in a ring to fight to the death, the winner was deemed good enough to live and serve as an assassin for the council.

Jasmine was the survivor, much to Lionel's delight. She had bloomed from scrawny thirteen years old to a voluptuous teen of fifteen to a young woman of seventeen, fit and beautiful. Her hair was thick and shiny, always in a braid (to keep it from getting bloodied) her hips balanced out her breast, an hourglass couldn't have been more curved and even. But behind the beauty was a person complicated and hurt, hidden under a thick layer of hate, strength, deadly skill and broken hope.

Now here she was Jasmine, a deadly human to both the mortal and immortal world. To be more specific she was in Lionel's room.

"Sit down dear." Lionel said with his sophisticated British accent, patting the spot on his bed next to him. Jasmine glared at him from her perch on the window seat. She had been studying her knives. One of them was not as sharp as it should have been. Frowning at it distastefully she had tuned out Lionel for most of his useless banter, mainly about the scandals going on with the vampire nobility. She had heard nothing until he called out her name.

Scowling at the distance between her and the bed she stood up and walked towards Lionel. He was by no means, hard on the eyes, he was muscled and although pale very handsome with angular features, thick and a dirty blond he kept it in a messy crop of sexily ruffled hair, constantly looking like he had a go on the couch. His eyes were a darker red than the blood she had spilt with no pity countless times before. He was the object of many fantasies, vampire and human alike, but Jasmine had no passion for this man. At least that is what she told herself.

Musing on these thoughts she sat next to her adopted father turned parasitic lover. Recently he had taken a romantic interest in her, and although her stomach turned at the thought of pursuing anything romantic with him it had been a great stress reliever. Even though she felt repelled by him, choking on his sickly sweet smell it was somewhat addicting.

"Yes Lionel?" she said in her bored tone.

He grinned at her, and although thousands of years old he looked like a mere twenty year old, free, and handsome on a testosterone high and ready for a roll.

"Come now love, don't use that politician voice with me." He grinned and licked his lips leaning forward burying his face between her neck and shoulders. He groaned loudly, recklessly.

"Elissa will hear you." Jasmine said curtly not moving, repulsed by his actions but sick with the knowledge that it didn't matter, she should give him what he wanted and just get it over with.

"Elissa is a blind old bitch, she is worthless, if it makes you comfortable we could kill her together, and you need not worry no more about so one hearing us." Lionel whispered pulling her towards the pillow.

Jasmine made no move; she stared up at the wall, a doll with lifeless eyes.

"Jasmine." He murmured like a mantra, "Jasmine my love, I must tell you something." He lay her down gently on the rich blankets and began the process of unbuttoning both their shirts. They were quickly discarded, and he lent down to caress the smooth unblemished skin with his lips.

"Hmm?" Jasmine asked thinking happy thoughts, not that she could remember any, but it would help with the situation. He unclipped her bra and massaged her perfect breasts, he savored the moment, understanding that this was the last time he would feel them for a long time. He enjoyed the feel of warmth, perfect flesh and blood that would be his. He loved his name on her lips.

"The councils of other countries have received news of a pack." He said nonchalantly. She said nothing waiting for him to continue, not making any noise, knowing it irked him to no end, not being able to hear any sounds of pleasure from the other.

"Jasmine say something." Lionel pleaded, watching her with cool calculating eyes as he unzipped his pants.

"You're a bastard."

He laughed, "They got wind of this pack, and apparently they're guardians…of humans. Well, many of the council members don't quite like any of them and they would like someone to be…subtracted from the little pack, as a warning to stop protecting those miserable packets of blood and bones." He leant down to her pulse and sucked lightly.

"Guardians of humans…" Jasmine had heard nothing like this, ignoring his hands, skilled though they were, as they danced up and down her back, cupping the curve of her bottom and working their way back up to her neck, to bring her throat closer to his prodding lips.

"Yes, I know, repulsive." He looked up from his place at her bellybutton a smirk of cruel humor graced his lips, "But the councils wish for a warning to take place before we kill them all, only fair you know, although I think we should just tear the mongrels to bits at once." He nuzzled his face into her stomach, slightly irritated that she had made no sounds but patient enough to deal with her stubbornness.

"So they want me to go." Jasmine said studying the pictures of dying humans on his canopy intently.

"Yes, you are the best you know." He said satisfaction dripping from his words, "But I won't be able to see you for a long time." He pouted, and while it may have melted anyone else's heart, male or female it did nothing to Jasmine who had hardened her heart years before.

"Well, they would like you to go and I cannot say no, so you leave tomorrow your target is on file already in you prepared duffel bag. First class as always, I refuse to allow you anything less, sorry I couldn't get you a private jet but they were all taken for a baroness visiting from Sri Lanka." Lionel said all in one breath, undoing her belt.

"Tomorrow." Jasmine stated wondering why they wanted a pack stopped so much, "Where? In Europe? Africa?"

"Actually love." Lionel sat up; ceasing his ministrations, studying the way a scientist studies a specimen of rare origin, "It's in America, the United States." He said with a hint of disgust, originally being from London, "That is why you are headed off early, and of course we have some people you simply must put down along the way but minor details, you may have your fun with them. Send word when you are done with your main target, he lives on the western side of America, the Olympic peninsula I think…have fun love but not to much fun without me." He smiled lovingly. Jasmine rolled her eyes knowing full well he was watching.

Chuckling darkly he pulled her closer and was about to tear off her pants when someone knocked.

"Damn." Lionel hissed, gently pushing her aside he pulled on a robe and waited for her to crouch below the bed.

"Lionel." A feminine voice riddled with wisdom only age allowed, "Cease your playing with your pet. Have you told her, her duties?"

Jasmine scowled furiously. She was no pet.

_No pet? _Her inner voice hissed.

_I am no one's pet_ she growled back.

_Oh of course not, you just give yourself up to his needs whenever, you're the councils dog, doing their dirty work. _It hissed, this inner voice was not her, it was the assassin, a distinctly different persona inside of her, while she felt pity sometimes, it made sure to quell it, when she was wary around the council, it ran strategies in her head about killing them, it was sarcastic and true, worried only about itself and Jasmine's well being. There was a difference, she was Jasmine; the voice was number Ninety.

Jasmine did not answer back to number Ninety. Instead she listened to Lionel's conversation with the other disgusting female leech. She reached for her clothes and slipped them on deftly along with the straps of leather that formed an 'X' across her chest, with pockets made for bullets, knives, grenades, glass, pieces of anything useful like DNA for the council to give to the doctors to make a specific medicine designed to kill the person in the worst way possible. The slow rotting of the lungs, the gradual tear at the kidneys, whatever was slow and terribly hurtful. Her skin crawled at the remembrance of Lionel's hand rubbing everywhere. She was lucky there was a knock; he had never gone so far as to deflower her but with her leaving tomorrow to America, she highly doubted he would have any qualms making her fully his tonight.

_You could just kill him_ Ninety said softly.

_Where would I go? _

_Far away from here, leave to America, start over; make your own fighting school. Come back when you feel like it and take revenge…_

She could not deny the temptation of watching Lionel and the council die, the blood lust that had been bred into her was fully awake now, roaring about in her stomach, a fierce beast demanding to be let go and dominate her body, to kill anything and anybody she disliked. Leaning against the bed she closed her eyes and thought. She had never been to America. She had been to Sao Paulo to kill a drug lord who didn't pay his dues to a liaison, she had been to Kenya to kill another person who knew to much, she had been to everywhere in Asia for similar reasons, she had visited every Pacific Island either for a kill of for the simple need of clearing her mind from Lionel and the council. Licking her lips she smiled at the thought of being on the job. While it disgusted her deep inside, the thrill of being on a mission, being a secret never got old, the same thrill when she was doing something particularly dangerous excited her to no end, she was addicted to the adrenaline rush.

"She's gone love." Lionel called out. Jasmine stood tall and proud at five foot four, glaring at Lionel, who had started to walk towards the window, he looked elegant in his finely cut Italian suit, his long fingers resting on his temple as he stared at her with his lust glazed eyes.

"I gathered." Jasmine replied toning down her glare to a simple narrowed look.

"Come now, don't look at me like that, you'll be gone tomorrow, and you don't want to leave on good terms?"

"Go fuck yourself."

Lionel laughed, "How incredibly un-ladylike, well I'm off, we will have to resume when you return from killing that _dog_, now I smell some poor unsuspecting mortal, yes, she smells rather plump, I'm off to feed love, be good now and enjoy your little job." He planted a chaste kiss on her full non-responsive lips and as the sun disappeared into the Mediterranean he leapt from his window and into the dark streets of the underground; to go find his way to the stairs where he would find his prey and feed.

The bastard leech.

Jasmine spat out the window after him, and made her way to the secret door where his room led to a hall into hers. Finding no solace in the beautifully decorated room she sank to her knees in front of her bed. For some reason this mission sent an odd feeling into the pit of her stomach…this kill…this victim felt different. She buried her face into her hands, these moments were the ones she cherished and despised, she could reflect on what she was without worry of another finding her. She stood up facing the mirror and caught sight of a beautiful girl, an hourglass figure, olive toned skin, brilliant green eyes and thick voluminous hair. It was a lovely face, and she did see it as hers, but she knew that deep inside she was sugar coated poison. Ecstasy and despair. She was hurt far beyond repair and too far deep within the world of the inhuman, she would never be normal, never love, never grow old because Lionel would want her turned, never have kids, never see her grandchildren, never die peacefully. Glaring at her melodramatic self she slipped out of her room and darted out of the huge mansion, she went out into the streets in a dark hoodie, finding her way to stairs she walked up and after showing the guards her tablet announcing her association with this underground world she walked out into the world. In beautiful Beirut, the Paris of the Middle East, smiling lightly she walked in the sun after disposing of her cape behind bushes she stepped out in skinny jeans and a short sleeve. Walking deeper into downtown she made her way to a Mosque. She smiled at the irony of it all but made her way in nonetheless and proceeded to pray in her own small corner.

~0~0~

It was the time of day when the moon was casting its last glares of pale light in a final attempt to stay and night was losing its grasp; it was the time when the sun started to make its soft light shards of triumph. She was standing in line to get into the airplane staring at her ticket. America…she had never been. Looking up she handed her ticket to the lady and with a fleeting look at Lionel who was standing there looking like one of the Greek gods with his hands in his jean pockets, already attracting a group of girls drooling over him. His eyes were stuck on hers, they looked truly sad but Jasmine tore away disgusted at him. As far as she knew no one was worth trusting. Not humans, not vampires and definitely not werewolves, who although she knew quite a few always held a certain mysterious aura to Jasmine. She didn't like it, not knowing what it was about them that threw her off, and that is why she took a particular liking in killing them. Even though the only thing she had of her biological parents was a carved wooden wolf on a silver chain she never liked the way they were better than vampires therefore harder to catch. Or the way they always caused a bubble of anticipation in her stomach every time she saw one, or the dreams she had of them running.

This mission held certain glamour to her; she was off to kill a wolf from a pack that _protected humans_. Who ever hear of that? She smirked not unlike the one Lionel had worn not twenty-four hours ago.

Now on the plane she had permission from the council to look at the target. Holding her small duffle bag in her lap she took out the manila folder containing the information. In her private seat in first class she was able to spread some out on the dinner plate attached to the seat in front of her.

Studying the first page it was about a teenage boy who lived in La Push Washington. Apparently he lived on a Native American reserve, his people were shape shifters from the start, reading all of the info she studied his picture and much to her dislike an odd thrill raced up her spine. Studying him she would have been a fool to not recognize his handsomeness. He seemed to glare at her from his picture, and although it was only on paper it sent pin pricks of heat into her stomach and another thrill rocked itself up her spine.

"He's a cutie." A voice said on the side of her, looking up Jasmine met eyes with a flight attendant. Jasmine realized she wasn't human, her skin was an unblemished pale and her contacts although brown did little to deter Jasmine's trained eye, the irises were blood red.

"Miss Jasmine?" she asked, obviously respectful. She had to be, Jasmine was a notorious assassin of the inhuman world. She was deadly to them and everyone including her knew it.

"Yes."

"He's lovely, shame, what is he?" the attendant said conversationally, she knew that this picture was most likely Jasmine's target.

"A mongrel."

"Ah, pity, I take back my comment."

Jasmine gave a wry smile, "I thought so."

"Hmm, well have your fun, rip him limb from limb, take pleasure in his screams for me, yes?"

Jasmine laughed even though something inside of her that she didn't know clawed at her chest to escape and rip this woman limb from limb for even mentioning about hurting this man.

"Of course." Jasmine replied with a sadistic smile, the attendant smiled back and said, "Now would you like some pretzels?" Jasmine said yes.

~0~0~

Jasmine walked out of the LA X, a cab had been arranged to take her from California to Washington. After a layover in London at the Heathrow she had spent the flight to America sleeping. She had needed it, the last night in Lebanon had been spent praying, and wandering around aimlessly. It helped settle the nerves before a mission. But on the flight she hadn't been able to shake the feeling of butterflies in her stomach after she saw Paul's picture, she had found out his name on the third page. But she needed to kill him. This was the person that she needed to thank for giving her a chance to visit America; she would repay him, with a one way ticket to hell.

But before she met her ride, she needed to take care of business. Walking a ways away from the airport she hid behind a discarded storage container and fixed her entire assassin arsenal onto her person, it was light packing as usual but useful, she needed to be quick. She buried the duffle bag…it wouldn't do for someone, human or inhuman who knew of her employers existence and track her down with the use of DNA…or scent.

Than walking back towards civilization she made her way downtown thanks to a map inside LAX when the characters started to get suspicious looking she ducked into an alleyway and using common sense figured out where she needed to go to reach a certain address. After that, it was simple, she sprinted, practically unseen to the humans, she dodged and using her inhuman lineage sniffed her way towards her target. Lionel never told her what she was, it was a way to keep her to him, and she resented him deeply for that. Finally she came in front of a beat up looking brick building, not even ten stories tall. Smirking at the floor on top she crouched under the fire escape. She was trained for this.

She sprang the eight foot jump to the nearest rung. Grabbing it she was unstoppable. She made her way up the flimsy steel craft all the way to the top, where looking in she could see a man leaning against the door frame, a woman on the other side. He seemed to be flirting…perhaps it was the girlfriend. But then Jasmine saw the money exchange hands. A transaction.

_Even here they pay for sex_ number Ninety mused inside her head.

_Shut up._

The woman came inside and the man shut the door. According to one of the files this man was John Espinosa and he had blackmailed the council of Taiwan's underground into letting it slip to a cult called the 'Volturi' that there were underground communities like theirs. Taiwan's council was personal friends with Lebanon's, so they called in for a favor and here was Jasmine.

_Like a dog, doing there bidding._ Number Ninety hissed.

_Wasn't our deal that you wouldn't talk while I was on the job? _Jasmine reminded her inner bitch.

_Whatever._

Breathing in, Jasmine felt the adrenaline running through her veins. This was it…these moments she never felt more alive. She crashed through the window, she had always loved being theatrical, the man yelped and the woman shrieked in surprise but was immediately cut off by the sound of blood gurgling in her throat, Jasmine had severed it with a simple dagger, the blood splattered across the wall, rivulets spilled from the corners of her red painted lips. She watched her body sink to the floor lifeless. Jasmine didn't turn when the man addressed her.

"W-who are you?" he whispered. Jasmine didn't turn around.

He continued, "Did the Asians send you?" Jasmine smirked…Asians? The human population would do better without him.

She turned and raised her dagger towards him. "WAIT!" he yelled, "Wait! I can tell you why he wants me dead!"

Jasmine laughed, "He? There are more than one you idiot."

"No." he whispered, "It was only the pale one who wanted me dead…he was blond his name started with an L" he had backed up against the wall. Jasmine had been following but she stopped with his description.

"L? Lionel?" she asked studying his expressions carefully.

"Yes…he wanted me dead because I knew something about his…lover…she was very pretty I heard and her name was Jasmine." Jasmine made no move at her name, she could tell he was not lying, and he obviously was unaware that she was Lionel's 'lover'.

"Go on." Jasmine said twirling her knife.

"He knew that I heard him talk to someone about Jasmine and a pack here in America…the pack was werewolves…and one of them had something to do with Jasmine. He…Lionel, was in love with this Jasmine girl and didn't want to lose her to someone in the pack." The man spluttered out, desperate to save his life.

Jasmine leaned back onto the counter avoiding getting her shoes dirty from the spilt blood of a prostitute.

"Keep talking." she said.

"He sent an assassin out here to kill the certain werewolf because he had ties to his Jasmine…and when he saw me he wanted me dead to…are you still going to kill me?"

"No." Jasmine lied, "What else did he say? Who was this person, what ties?"

"Lionel said imprinting, I know that means when a wolf mates, and he said something about La Push and a guy named Paul…" he never finished. He lay there dead, blood forming a red pool around his limp lifeless body as a dark figure darted out of the eighth floor window and back towards LAX.

~0~0~

Back at LAX she found the white van with the symbol from Lionel's council on the license plate. The driver said nothing as she climbed into the passenger seat. He said nothing on their drive through California. Jasmine was fine with that, she needed to think. She knew what imprinting was, it had happened before back in Lebanon where council members that were werewolves imprinted on some of her peers, personally it disgusted her that one person was solely another's on the simple need of carrying on a gene. And to find out about the possibility of it happening to her, it was horrible. She didn't want to think about that, she didn't want to fall in love, she couldn't.

"I was told to give you some information." The drivers spoke out suddenly. Jasmine made no move; she was trained to remain emotionless.

"Yes?" she finally replied.

"You are to stay in La Push with an agent, human, but she had gone through with the underground before so she will know what to help you with."

"Is that all?"

"Master Lionel told me to tell you that you would be enrolling in the high school." He reached for his cup holder and extracted a piece of paper from the depression, "And he told me to give you this." He handed her an envelope that read, 'Open now' in Lionel's elegant calligraphy.

Inside the words both chilled and angered her.

_Dear Love, _

_ As you may have already heard you will be enrolling in a high school, please don't forget us, and should you I shall make the trip to America myself to remind and make you mine, but don't be afraid have fun! Go off and break hearts… Just don't fall in love, love. I couldn't bear the thought of my future mate falling for a lesser being, you deserve nothing_ lesser_. Do your duties and come home soon, I shall be waiting, as will your ring. _

_ Yours and only yours_

_ ~Lionel _

She crushed the paper in her hands, the crackle of crumpling paper doing nothing to soothe her fury.

"Bit of a pigheaded one isn't he?" the driver remarked.

Jasmine nodded tightly.

"Never was fond of British vampires, always thought they were better…with their tea and crumpets and…" Jasmine tuned out his useless racist talk, she had half a mind to slit his throat but he probably worked for the underground, and although they would only scold her she was in no mood to be yelled at when she got back…after she was done here of course, killing that mongrel.

~0~0~

It took a long time to make it to La Push and only when the driver stopped in front of a house did Jasmine realize she had slept again.

_Sleeping twice? You must be slipping up_ number Ninety whispered

_Oh, go away_

The driver stepped out and walked to the door with her, which surprised Jasmine.

"I can make the eight step walk." She quipped

"I'm sure ye can ma'am, but I'm supposed to check up on her anyway and see if she still follows by our rules."

Jasmine said nothing, when he knocked she heard a rustling sound and footsteps pounding on wooden floor.

The door opened to reveal a pretty woman in her late fifties, although she was old, she was beautiful. Her hair was chestnut brown and only slightly streaked with gray, she had piled on top of her head, her frame was small and her figure was pretty, she wore jeans and a cashmere sweatshirt. Nothing looked hidden Jasmine concluded, she could be trusted. The driver seemed to think so to, he left after chatting comfortable with her for about fifteen minutes.

She beckoned Jasmine inside and she noticed vaguely that it had begun to rain. She turned and found her hostess pressing her ear to the door, after a couple of minutes she exhaled.

Then she started.

"You poor child!" she rushed at Jasmine who was too shocked to jump away.

_Slipping up much?_

_Jetlag,_ Jasmine hissed back.

"What do you mean…miss…"

"Just Kayla."

"Kayla?"

"Well you poor baby, how young were you when the signs started coming?"

Jasmine was taken aback; this woman knew what it was like to be recruited.

"Since I was born."

"How many foster parents?"

"Fifteen."

"Poor baby, when did they take you?"

"I went when I was thirteen."

"You went?" she yelped in shock, "Why in the hell would you do that?"

"I had no where else to go, they had already killed a lot of innocent people, and I didn't want their deaths on my hands anymore so I went over there." Jasmine responded wearily.

"And now you're an assassin." Kayla added with a wry expression.

"Yep." Jasmine said recognizing the harsh irony.

"You had no other choice. How old are you dear?"

"Seventeen."

"Why didn't you leave?"

"What…because I'm an assassin."

"True, they gave you extra training?"

"Yes…"

"I'm so sorry, listen honey I know you're here to kill this boy but he's an innocent…he doesn't deserve to die." Kayla wasted no time.

Jasmine stood stock still; no one had ever mentioned anything that went against the underground council, "I have to." She thought back to the prostitute, she had been innocent…although not innocent _innocent_ she had still known nothing of this dark world.

"No sweetie you don't, I didn't. I ran away from mine, I ran and I came here, there are laws protecting us, there is a pack here that protects me, I am a citizen of La Push and I gave them valuable information, that and my want to remain human and pure gives them a high level of respect for me and the chance to live a life." Kayla said breathlessly, her eyes holding so much empathy.

"You wouldn't understand." Jasmine murmured truly in shock at this news, "There are underground communities everywhere they would find me, and its not just werewolves but vampires to…" she clenched Lionel's letter in her hand willing herself to bring it out on the table, but finding that her arm disobeyed.

"There are good vampires in this world just like there are good werewolves. Tell me Jasmine, do you know why Lionel wants you to kill Paul Lahote?" Jasmine recoiled, this woman knew Lionel, she knew Paul her target, and judging by her tone she knew why Paul was being targeted.

"You know Lionel…you know my name?" Jasmine managed to choke out.

"I know Lionel." Kayla said, distaste evident in her tone, "He was a bastard that one, never liked the way he looked. Handsome mind you, but like a snake, the brighter the colors the more poisonous it is. And yes I know your name, I received word that I had to help you in order to settle a debt with the council of your country, it was stupid…over the breaking of the chairman's son's heart."

Jasmine smirked, love. Such a useless thing.

"But the point is," Kayla went on, "You don't need to do Lionel's bidding, you don't need to follow the council, there are rules made by them to protect us, I could adopt you, I would raise you as my daughter and love you like my own, they can't kill me, I was trained to kill them, and you would be safe you could start over." She reached across to grasp Jasmine's hand, "Honey, you could have a new life."

That was tempting.

_Do it!_ Number Ninety screamed inside her head

_Didn't I tell you to away?_

_You should know I wouldn't listen. _

_Shut up!_

_Are those your favorite words? _

_Get the fuck out of my head!_

_Our head. _

Jasmine swallowed but didn't remove her hand from Kayla's.

"Let me think about it." Jasmine said quietly.

"Of course!" Kayla said looking relieved, "Take all the time you need, you don't need to have your life dictated by those blood thirsty packs of shit."

Jasmine snorted and Kayla smiled; happy at getting the girl to crack an emotion besides the usual diplomatic mask all assassins wore.

Kayla showed Jasmine to her room and although plain, Jasmine felt pleasantly at home on the simple bed. Kayla knew that Jasmine would leave to go find Paul, it was natural instinct, but she didn't bother stopping her. Kayla knew the poor girl was in for a whole lot of trouble, she knew Paul was Jasmine's, Lionel had let it slip that Paul would imprint on Jasmine and he had stressed the fact that Jasmine needed to kill him. But Kayla was being true in everything she said, she would take care of her and she was true when she said she hated Lionel. Which she did, with a passion.

That night Jasmine waited until she heard Kayla snore contently before she silently opened her window and using a small piece of cloth enclosed in Paul's manila folder she followed his scent to a house similar to Kayla's. She situated herself in the branch of a tree, conveniently looking into Paul's room. She barely knew him, yet she knew his every detail, about how he started sleeping with girls at fourteen, and the time when he fell down a cliff _while_ cliff diving and scraped his back on the rock so bad the water turned red around him. She pulled out a tiny revolver laden with silver bullets, although they probably wouldn't hurt him, the toxins in them would, the bullets had been specially made for Jasmine as a present from Lionel, the bullets were hollow and filled with his very own vampire venom, guaranteed to kill anything. Jasmine wasn't surprised to find Paul rolling around with another figure on his bed. She assumed it was a girl…she hoped it was a girl.

And while she stared in contempt at the disgusting thing Paul was…she couldn't help but feel as if a fire had woken inside of her, it was angry that something else was with Paul, it wanted to rip that figure to pieces it wanted to gauge Paul's eyes out with a pencil for fucking some useless bitch. Jasmine shook her head in mild surprise; she wasn't used to feeling anything as passionate as this except for when she was doing her job. She shook her head again as if to get rid of the fiery feeling in her stomach, if it wasn't her imagination the letter from Lionel which was still in her pocket seemed to be burning against the thin cloth getting to her skin. Ignoring it Jasmine stared around her, eager to avoid Paul's antics. She didn't want to see him when the blanket came off the wildly bucking figures.

She hadn't noticed the scenery; it was all very beautiful, almost serene. It promoted a feeling of calmness in Jasmine and she welcomed it, feeling perfectly calm and content while one figure on the inside was feeling the exact opposite.

**Paul POV**

The sex had started out great, Melanie was known to be good, and Paul wasn't at all disappointed, he was in fact looking forward to it, after a long day of running with the pack and news of some assassin or other coming he was looking forward to a good night. It had been good up until the point where she took over, that's not to say she was bad, she was pretty damn experienced but this wasn't right. He didn't feel right…in fact he felt like he was being watched, and as the sex went on, he realized he didn't even like it anymore, he was tired and cranky.

And he wanted something. No, he wanted someone, someone who would share his bed every night, and wouldn't hope for love because she knew Paul would love her. Paul mentally slapped himself when he realized that he was asking for an imprint. After that he dove into the sex with a renewed vengeance but it didn't stop the gnawing feeling of guilt and betrayal he felt, and it didn't end as good as it started, and he did kick Melanie out. He felt satisfied but not as good as usual, but he settled that feeling with a promise of running tomorrow with the pack and going to a club with Jared. Paul however was oblivious to a girl, sitting outside his window preparing to shoot him, a girl unbeknownst to him, who was his imprint.

Suddenly he heard two words that were as clear as day, but being a wolf he knew they weren't meant for his ears, whirling around he met eyes with the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on. She was beautiful, she was perfect, he needed her, he loved her, but then he saw what was in her hand

**Jasmine's POV**

Jasmine smirked at the girl who was rudely thrown out, it made her laugh and the fire inside of her was calmed, much to her confusion.

She was ready to kill Paul. She had killed countless people before, some whom were human and deep in the underground world, others who were not. She hadn't cared, she still didn't care. This was just one more kill. She raised the revolver and aimed for Paul, she waited for him to turn around and when he did she froze in the act of pulling the trigger. He was beautiful, true, he was ripped true, but the look on his face was bliss, like he was happy the stupid girl was gone and that she no longer took up his time. He was an innocent.

Jasmine shook her head, "Focus Jasmine." She said aloud and as her finger went through the well practiced motions. Paul sat up straight, suddenly, and his head whipped around in her direction, they met eyes and Jasmine almost didn't pull the trigger but she did, in the panic of the moment, realizing she didn't want him to die her hand twitched without her realizing it.

And it was only after she had dropped to the ground and sprinted home away from the sound of sirens and Paul's' cries of 'Wait!' did she realize she missed.

She had missed her first target in her entire career.

**Ahyup! A lot longer than my usual chappies but none the less! Tell me whether you liked or not! Please please! Review! Please!**

**~pw**


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